Red and Pink M&Ms
by jjwitdaheydiddydiddy
Summary: Valentine's Day-themed one-shots for Matt and Mello! Some fluffy, others a bit darker. Rated for language, violent themes, and possible future sexual content. Enjoy!
1. Heart Shaped Box

"Heart-shaped Box"

--

Fuzzy eyes opened, blinking, searching for the bedside clock. 'Shit.' Mello poked his snoozing partner-in-crime in the skull. "Mff." Again. "Fmm." Again. Harder. "Matt." "Muhh…" "Matt!" **Jab**. "Ow! The hell?" "Get your ass up and get some food and stuff." "_Later_…" Jab. "Now!" "Arrgh! Fine!" Mello smirked, satisfied. His head hit the pillow and he was out again.

--

Matt had his keys in hand, and was about to leave, when he remembered—"Oh yeah…" The hacker rummaged through his massive game pile until he found it. He scooted to the kitchen, setting the red box on the tabletop, and left without a sound.

--------

_Eight year old Mail Jeevas had been saving up his money to buy Resident Evil 2 for his birthday. (He'd been forced to wait a couple of weeks, because it didn't come out until the 12th.) While he was on his way out of the shop, something caught his eye from the convenience store across the street. Out of curiosity, he wandered over. It wasn't expensive, and he had a bit of money left over, so he bought it. For Mello. His Best Friend Forever._

_He felt a little embarrassed about it, so he decided to give it to the blonde anonymously. On the morn of February 14th, it was tucked under his shirt as he scooted to the bathroom. When he was sure nobody would see him, he put it outside Mello's room. Later, he popped his head into said person's doorway (as he did every day). "Hey, Mells! What's that?" "Hear chocolate. Someone left it. Probably one of my adoring fans." He stepped in. "Che." The box was empty, save for a few stragglers. The blonde stretched the box out to his friend. "Matt—you like any of these?" The redhead glanced over to the proffered box. "Sure." "There's some weird ones. It'd be a shame to waste chocolate… maybe I could just eat it off…" Mello mused, and Matt popped a molasses chew into his mouth. "Hm. Not bad." The blonde half-cringed, and tossed the scarlet box to him. "Here, knock yourself out."_

_The next year it was the same. Matt would secretly buy the best heart he could afford, and leave it for Mello to find. Mello would then give the gross ones to Matt._

_Until he left._

--------

Mello woke up forty minutes later, and flopped out of bed. He shimmied into a pair of super-tight drainpipes and a loose white T-shirt. He finger-combed his hair on the way to the kitchen. "Matt better get back _soon_, I'm—" His breath hitched for just a second. Sitting on the table was a shiny, red, heart-shaped box with Japanese writing emblazoned across the top. Reflexively, he looked at the calendar. 'I'll be damned…' "Mail, you sneaky bitch."

--

Matt kicked the door closed behind him, hands full of groceries. "Honey, I'm home!" He sauntered into the kitchen to find Mello gazing at the nearly empty heart box. The blonde looked up at him and beamed. Matt set the bags on the counter, and Mello extended the box to him. "Hey, you like any of these?" Matt smiled. "Sure."

* * *

Did ya like it? Cute, huh? Just to clear up some things... Matt and Mello aren't "together" in this. It was like a... 'holy fuck it was Matt all along!' type of dealy... also, I don't know if they sell those gross-ass gamble chocolates (jim gaffigan fans, you know who you are) in Japan, but.. meh. whatevs. my fic, my rules! Oh, and Resident Evil 2 was released on February 12th, 1998, and Matt was born February 1st, 1990, so the dates sync up. And I'm pretty sure that any orphan with the mind and intelligence of an adult would be playing such a graphically violent game at the tender age of... well, Resident Evil came out a couple years before that, so.. about 6.

So yeah. Thanks for reading! Pleeeeeeeeeeeese review! and fave! and tell your friends! ^.^


	2. Three Six Mafia

*MERRY CHRISTMAS!* (feliz navidad, happy hanukkah, happy solstice/Yule, etc.) Sorry it's so short, but... well... it's better than the last one, I can assure you!

Disclaimer: DNAngel is not my manga, it's just a series, that's one of my fa-vorite ones... 'cause it's Sugisaki's son (he-heee!)

Warnings: yaoi (guyxguy), torture, rape, etc (you know, all the good stuff!)

* * *

"Pet, come here." Krad whimpered inwardly. 'Not again…' For the past few days, the blonde had been forced to… _pleasure_… Hiwatari when he arrived home from work. Krad always tried to go to a different place, and it worked most of the time. He knelt down before the standing man, his hands rising to undo his slacks. Strong hands stopped him, though, and he was pulled up by his forearms. "No, no…" The brunette man pulled Krad in for a kiss—which, in his mind, was far worse than the oral sex. "We'll be trying something _different_ tonight…"

Kei gripped his arms, and flung him backwards onto the large bed. Krad let out a surprised yelp, and the other man dove on him. He ripped off his meager accoutrements, and began to quickly move the angel in a position to his liking. Krad began to panic—he knew what was coming. The older man unzipped his pants, sliding his erect cock from its cloth prison. The blonde started fighting. He tried desperately to throw the man off by kicking and scratching, but to no avail. Kei slapped him hard, and touched the tip of his finger to the Cinch around his throat. Instantly, a wave of pain shot through the angel, and he cried out. Hiwatari pressed his thighs further apart, and settled his hips over Krad's. He held down the angel's wrists before planting a kiss on his mouth.

Krad wasn't ready; he didn't want this. He let out a yowl, and Kei slapped him again. He bit the blonde's earlobe, and touched his finger to the collar again. He let it linger there for a moment longer, and Krad screamed. While the blonde was incapacitated, the older man gripped his hips and pulled them up. Krad let out another screech as Hiwatari entered him quickly. He could feel the soft tissue tearing as the man pushed in and slid out, over and over again. Tears welled up in blue eyes—it hurt so much.

The seconds went by agonizingly slowly as Kei ripped him apart. He wasn't screaming anymore, only letting out whimpers. He wished he had been screaming, though—that would have drowned out the sounds of Hiwatari's animalistic grunting. "You're so _tight_, Pet… mmm…" The angel sobbed lightly. "Stop," he whispered. Kei did stop for a moment. "What? You want me to stop?" Krad nodded, desperate. "So… you're not… _enjoying_ this?" He shook his head, tears dripping down his face. The brunette man sneered at him, and slapped him again. "You **ungrateful** little _bitch_!" He pulled out completely, only to thrust his penis harshly back into Krad's body. "Ahh!" The angel struggled to breathe as Kei's thrusting became more violent. "I bring you into **my home**!" He slammed into him again. "I take **care** of you!" And again. "And you have the **gall** to _disrespect_ me like that?!" He slapped Krad once again. His cheek was flushed a bright red, and stung like hell. "I'll teach you to disrespect me!"

Kei pulled himself out of Krad suddenly, rising onto his knees. He grabbed the angel by his waist and practically threw him off the bed. Krad landed on the floor in a trembling heap, his right hand twisted at an odd angle. Hiwatari stood over him, snarling. He bent down and took a handful of golden locks. He dragged Krad a couple of feet from the bed, the blonde howling the whole way. Kei forced him down onto his stomach, pulling his rear into the air. Krad's world was spinning, and once again, he felt Kei's cock ripping into him. All he could do was whimper and cry. He clenched his left hand—he was pretty sure his right wrist was broken—to distract himself from the pain. Several minutes (or so it felt to Krad), Hiwatari grunted loudly, gave a few last, erratic thrusts, and came inside the angel. He pulled out, and let Krad's body crumple to the floor. The blonde was still sobbing loudly, and he curled in on himself.

Hiwatari went into the bathroom, presumably to clean himself off. Krad laid, still, on the floor, a sharp, stinging pain shooting up his pelvis. The other man returned after a few minutes and stood over Krad. "Get up!" The blonde flinched, but didn't move. The man became angrier. "I said get up!" He reached down and ripped Krad from the floor. He cried out. Kei wrapped his arm tightly around Krad's neck. "Have you forgotten your place?!" He threw the angel into the bathroom, and Krad hit the floor with an audible smack. The man stalked over, landing a swift kick into the angel's ribs. He yelped loudly. The man spat. "Pathetic." He started to walk out of the room. "Clean yourself up." And with that, he was gone.

Krad stayed on the floor in a fetal position for several minutes, trying to compose himself. He steadied his breathing, and it was now coming out in relatively controlled ragged gasps. The drops streaming down his face had all but ceased as he hefted himself up onto his forearms, careful not to move his right hand so much. "Ahh… ah." He sighed heavily. 'So here I am… _again_… in the bathroom… fixing myself up after one of _his_ exploits…' The angel's stomach burned suddenly, and he managed to get to the toilet before he vomited all over the floor. When he'd finished heaving, he slid back onto the cold marble tiles, shaking.

Several minutes went by as Krad collected himself once more. He was able to crawl over to the twin sinks, and hoisted himself up as best he could. The first thing he did was rinse his mouth out. With a lot of soap. After he finished, he glanced in the mirror briefly. A large bruise was beginning to form on his cheek. "Hm." He preferred to stay away from mirrors—he couldn't stand looking at himself anymore. Not that he'd been so vain to begin with. He turned away and sought out a towel to clean up with. He found one under the sink, and soaked it with lukewarm water. Krad steeled himself, and grimaced as he slowly began to wash away the blood and semen that had gathered on his legs. A sharp intake of air accompanied his actions when he began to clean off his torn anus. When he'd finished, he rooted around for some antibiotic ointment, and applied it carefully. He then set about to find something for his broken wrist. He managed to find an ace bandage in one of the cabinets, and wrapped it firmly around the, now swollen, joint.

Krad re-entered the bedroom to find that Hiwatari was still gone. His stomach clenched as he relived the rape. 'Because that's what it was… rape…' He trembled as he lowered himself onto his poor sleeping accommodations and fell into a light, fitful slumber.

--

Birds chirped merrily in the tree that the two young boys sat beneath. Satoshi put down the remains of his sandwich to rummage through his bag. Daisuke looked on with mild interest as the boy extracted a plain white envelope from its depths. "Here." The redhead put down his chopsticks as Satoshi handed it to him. It was a letter, with postage from T'ai-pei, China. "It's from Krad! Have you read it yet?" Satoshi nodded lightly. "Yes, but I thought that you might like to read it as well." Daisuke opened it excitedly, gasping every now and then at the things that 'Krad' had written. "Wow! He's done so much already!" "Yes. He's going south next—to Laos, Vietnam, Thailand…" The redhead turned to him. "He's been gone a month already, and he spent all that time in just China… he's not gonna be home in _forever_." The blue-haired boy just hummed lightly, inwardly smiling at the notion. "Yes, I suppose it will be some time before he returns. It's a big world out there. With any luck, he'll come back a bit wiser." He said this with a tinge of sadness. Daisuke smiled softly at his boyfriend. "I'm sure he will."

* * *

And yes, I do enjoy butchering Jack-o songs... not really.

Was it good? Are you happy? I hope so! ^.^ I hope it's okay... I fired it out kinda fast, so i'm not sure... eh... whatever.

...reviews, please! ¡Próspero año y felicidad!


	3. Grenade Jumper

Yeah! A new one-shot! Let's hope it doesn't suck too bad! It's kind of long, and not really V-Day-ish... It's actually pretty depressing, like my last one. Probably because I've spent most of my life trying to de-base the "holi"day. Oh well! Read it and weep!

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of Death, Firearms, Illegal Narcotics, OOC-ness? and a lot of unnecessary details at the beginning!

_Grenade Jumper_

* * *

January 26, 2010. 12:57pm.

_60… 70… 80…_

"Damn! The cars got ahead of me! How many bodyguards does Takada _have_?" Matt made a split-second decision to jump the median and bypass the blockade. As an after-thought, he fired a canister behind to give himself a bit of cover. "Shit –shit—this isn't good. I gotta ditch this car." He veered around another intersection, changing directions. A couple of Takada's guards weren't far behind. "Damn—there's too much traffic! I gotta get some distance…" He spotted a turnoff for NR-15 East and turned sharply to the right to make it. Naturally, his pursuers followed. 'At least I'm on a straighter road.' He lost a bit of speed weaving around other cars, and a few minutes later, he was pulling onto NR-20 North to Shinjuku. He'd gained a bit of distance on Takada's guards from all the traffic, but he was too easy to spot.

He was almost in Shinjuku before he hit a clear straightaway, and as soon as he did, the throttle was on the floor. He wove around the few cars on the road and thanked his lucky stars that it wasn't a rush hour. He spotted a turnoff that would put him near Akebonobashi, and took it. Slowing down a bit, he navigated several turns just to be safe, and pulled into a quieter part of the neighborhood. He passed a larger alleyway and decided it was a good time to ditch the car. The gamer pulled off a rather impressive maneuver as he backed into the alley, but couldn't prevent the removal of both rear-view mirrors. He ran over a wooden palette and stopped just before the back end crashed into a jutting wall. "I hope no one saw me…"

Working quickly, he grabbed his pack from the back seat and pulled out a large sweatshirt and a beanie. He swapped out his vest and goggles, stuffing them into the satchel. He left the grenade launcher in the glove box. It didn't have any prints on it, anyway. Instead of trying to open the door (which would've been impossible), he squeezed out the open window, climbed onto the roof, and leapt off the back of the vehicle. He slipped through the narrow space between the two large buildings and broke into a jog to the other end of the alley. He waited for a moment in the shadows, and tagged onto the back of a group of teenagers that had been passing by. Because he was slight, and inconspicuously dressed, he blended right in. 'Damn—I've lost them, but it'll take forever to get back to the apartment.' The gamer gradually distanced himself from the group and pulled out his phone. His GPS tracker told him he was five minutes from Akebonobashi Station. 'The subway will take too long… and I don't have much cash on me.' His eyes shifted around, looking for some answer. He spotted a scooter resting against the wall of a convenience store. 'That'll work.'

Wasting no time, Matt walked over to the scooter. He casually strapped the accompanying helmet onto his head. A quick glance showed no key ignition. 'That makes it easier.' He popped up the kick stand and dropped it into neutral. The gamer pushed the bike up to a decent speed, stuck the bike into first gear, and hopped on. 'Better than trying to hotwire the damn thing.' He sped off to Toshima City.

Matt discarded the bike in Zoshigaya, two blocks from the apartment he shared with Mello. Five minutes later, he was jamming his key into the deadbolt. It wasn't until he'd secured the lock and slumped down into an armchair that his adrenaline rush had worn off and the full gravity of the day finally caught up.

He started shaking. He stuck a cigarette between his lips and lit up, letting that first puff of nicotine-infused smoke start to calm his nerves. The pit in his stomach made him want to avoid the T.V. remote control forever, but he knew he couldn't. So with a heavy heart, he turned on the news. He pulled his mobile out of his pocket and hit the first name in his address book. "Hello?" "Lidner. It's Matt. Where are you?" "I'm on my way to the rendezvous point. I'm glad to hear you made it out alive." "Has Mello contacted you?" "No." "I see." "I'll call you as soon as I meet up with Mello." "Alright."

He hung up in time to hear the female reporter giving an update. "We have some breaking news, now. It appears that the vehicle driven by one of the assailants was discovered near Akebonobashi Station in Shinjuku, but there was no sign of the suspect. A grenade launcher and several smoke cartridges were found in the glove compartment. No other weapons or personal effects were found. I'm joined by one of Takada's guardsmen, Nobu Tokushima. Can you tell us anything about the driver?" "He has to be on foot, now that he's abandoned his vehicle, but we don't know what he looks like, because his face was covered. What we do know is that he has short dark hair, and was wearing a black and red striped long-sleeved shirt with a brown and white vest." Matt sighed and tuned the rest of their conversation out. "Mello… I hope this crazy plan of yours works."

--

At 3:00, Matt's phone rang. "Lidner. What's going on?" The other end was silent, but he could hear shouts in the background. 'This can't be good.' "M–Matt… Mello is…" Just by the tremble in her voice, he knew. "Mello's dead… isn't he?" She sighed. "There is a fire… in the church. It's unlikely that he is alive." "I see." "…" "Thanks for all your help." She frowned. "Yes… of course. If you need anything else—" "Yeah." "Matt… for what it's worth, I'm sorr—" He hung up on her. He didn't even realize how badly he was shaking until the phone dropped from his fingers. "D–dammit, Mello… you stupid–stupid…"

For the first time in years, he allowed himself to cry. He hadn't cried when Mello left Wammy's without telling him. He hadn't cried when he was told that L was dead, like so many of the other children had. He couldn't even remember crying when he six, and he'd learned his parents had died. But he cried now. Hard sobs racked his body as he cursed the carelessness of his most beloved friend.

--

January 28, 2010. 6:05 pm.

"Kira has been caught." "Heh. No shit…" "It was Light Yagami." "Hm. Bet those Task Force members are kicking themselves now. So, when's the trial, or…?" "He's dead. Killed by his own Shinigami." "A fitting end." There was awkward silence for a moment. "You know… if it wasn't for the kidnapping, we wouldn't have been able to capture him, or Mikami. And we'd probably all be dead." "Good to know." More silence. "I'm just curious, but… what will you do now?" "I don't know. Maybe some freelance tech work? I was thinking about going back to the States." "Well. You'll figure something out." "Yeah. Later, Near." "Goodbye, Matt."

--

February 13th, 2010. 11:52 pm.

Matt had finished packing up his belongings for the trip back to the U.S. But now, he was faced with a dilemma—whether to leave Mello's things in the dingy apartment or take them along. 'It'd be extra baggage, and it's not like he needs them anymore. Or that it matters if anybody discovers his identity… somehow.' He heaved a sigh. "I guess I could just look through his stuff, take what I want and leave what I don't… yeah. Right. Get right on that." So he pushed himself out of the chair and walked to the only bedroom. He hadn't ever touched Mello's side of the dresser, and it took a bit of steel to bring himself to open it.

The top drawer was filled with leather and vinyl. Matt rolled his eyes and started picking through the clothing. He pulled out one of the vests—Mello's favourite one. The gamer worried his bottom lip as he studied it. With gentle hands, he re-folded it and placed it on the top of the dresser. A bit more rummaging found him a pair of gloves, which he also decided to keep. He closed the drawer and opened the one immediately underneath. His first reaction was to blink. Guns, of every size, shape, make, and color, were piled high next to a multitude of bullets. "Oookaaay… can't take _those_ on a plane." After spending several minutes poking through the cache, however, he laid out two pretty black Glock pistols (a 22 and a 25) and a few .380 ACP cartridges for the 25. "I'll just take apart one of my towers and hide them inside. No biggie."

Once the gun store was closed, he knelt down to open the last drawer. "Found his underpants." And socks. And a half-ounce of marijuana. "He had some _left_? And didn't _tell_ me? That bastard!" The little baggie was tossed on top of the pistols. "What _else_ is he hiding in here? All the chocolate was in the kitchen, even the good stuff…" He lifted a pile of socks and stopped. On the bottom of the drawer was a necklace. It was wrapped around a plain white envelope. "The hell? What _is_ this?" Matt dropped the socks off to the side and gingerly picked up the envelope. He removed the necklace and stared at it. 'This is… this is _mine_. It went missing right after Mello… right after he left Wammy's.' "Why would he take my necklace? It can't be mine." He flipped the tiny cross around to see a small heart scratched into the back. "It… it _is_ mine… Why did Mello take it?" He looked back to the envelope. There was no writing on it, so Matt opened it and removed the letter inside. The gamer wasn't that stunned to see it was addressed to him. He began to read.

_Dear Matt, if you are reading this letter, then I'm probably dead. I don't know if the kidnapping worked in our favour, but I hope to God that it did, and Kira's six feet under right now. But enough of the Kira case—there are some things that I want you to know._

_The first thing I want you to know is that you were the only person I ever called a 'friend.' And even though I left so abruptly, I never wanted to leave you behind. I even thought about taking you with me. But I didn't want you involved in the type of shit I knew I'd have to do to make it. Hell, maybe I was afraid that you'd be ashamed of me. I did things that I'm __not__ proud of, by any stretch._

_I also want you to know that I only trusted two people with my life. The first person was Near. Hard to believe, I know, but for all the fighting we did, we trusted each other to not get the other killed. That was our unspoken pact. The other person I trusted was you. Not Roger, not even L. That's why I called __you__. It wasn't just because you were third._

_Lastly, I want you to know that… that I love you. I have for a long time._

Matt paused for a moment, eyes wide.

_I'm sure you're surprised. I was, too, when I figured it out. And now you know. That I left because I loved you too much. That I tried so hard to keep you away because I didn't want you to get hurt. But you were the only one I could trust to help me. You were the only one who could do it. And I needed to see you again. Because I missed you. And there wasn't a day that went by where I didn't think about you._

_Since you're reading this, it means that you're alive, and you're safe, and I thank God that I didn't get you killed, because I could never forgive myself if you had died, even if I was dead myself. So I want you to keep going. I want you to move on and live for yourself, and for me. Can you do that, Matty? I hope you can do that. For me. Because even though I know I'm in Hell right now, I can live knowing that you're all right._

_Please tell Near that… that I'll miss him. And that I'm sorry I won't be on his ass for the rest of his life, beating him at his own game._

_I love you, Matty. Goodbye._

He was crying again, he realized, as he swallowed the lump in his throat. "Dammit, Mello… dammit. I love you, too." He held the tiny cross pendant in his fist tightly, hot tears cascading down his face. A choked, hollow laugh escaped his lips. "Happy Valentine's Day, Mihael Keehl… don't have too much fun in Hell 'till I get there."

* * *

'Kay, to clear some things up: 1) Please don't bitch at me if I got the roadways in Tokyo wrong. Those maps are hella-hard to read! 2) Matt, in "official colours," looks an awful lot like a Japanese teenager. 3) Hotwiring bikes can screw up the comp. inside, so I made it easier. Don't ask what kind of scooter it is, I don't know. Also, it is a fact that motorcycle theft is so non-existent in Japan that most people have no security systems. 4) Matt took the Glock pistols specifically, because they are made of "plastic." The Glock 25 .380 isn't available for purchase in the U.S. because of import restrictions. The .40 S&W cartridge for the Glock 22 is available _everywhere_. 5) I had wanted it to be Mello's rosary wrapped around the letter like some sweet gesture or something, but he was wearing it when he got toasted (and not on the pot). So I made something up. 6) I made Matt sound like some crybaby. Screw you. I didn't cry at my own grandfather's funeral, but I'd cry if my bff died. 7) When humans die, they go to MU (nothingness). 8) The ending seems really phoned-in. Oh well. And, finally, 9) The asshole who told me I should stick to DNAngel fics should know that they're an accessory. I used their flame to commit arson. On their Olympic-Swimming-Pool-sized mother. (nice!)

Thanks for reading! ^.^


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